


Breakfast

by GloriaMundi



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prehistoric, Community: au_bingo, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-10
Updated: 2011-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaMundi/pseuds/GloriaMundi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another version of reality, Arthur and Eames meet for breakfast. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast

The scene: a cool, quiet morning in the Late Cretaceous. Smoke rises lazily from distant, dormant volcanoes, streaking a sky that's already dust-hazed. Branches rustle in the forest. Sauropods gambol in the swamp. There's a flicker of movement on the mottled bark of a fallen tree, imperceptible to all but the sharpest eyes.

Luckily Arthur's eyes are as sharp as his teeth. Faster than falling he's across the clearing, catching and caging the peculiar beast that's flattening itself against the wormy bark.

\--I'm a leaf-shadow! I'm a trick of the light! I'm a snakeskin shed and shivering! I'm a --

\--The hell you are.

Arthur peers at the creature. It seems to have fur, light brown and rather dishevelled: it certainly has teeth, though they don't look as though they're much use for biting anyone. This close, it's hard to focus: besides, he still feels two-thirds blinded, two-thirds crippled, without Dom and Mal.

\--Fuck knows what you are. Apart from food.

\--Not food! Not food! I'm poison, meeeee!

Arthur shows his teeth. There are a great many of them. The creature's hot little heartbeat speeds up until it's practically vibrating. At least it's stopped that high-pitched squeaking.

\--I think I'll call you Breakfast. It feels like it's breakfast time.

\--Not food! I'm --

Arthur cocks his head. Is that squeal supposed to mean something? He flexes a claw.

\--You're _eeeeee_?

\-- _Eeeeames_. (The creature practically snarls at Arthur, who is impressed.)

\--And what the hell are you, if you're not food?

\--I'm a mammal. We're going to inherit the Earth.

\--Yeah, likely story. Give me one good reason not to eat you.

The creature -- the _Eames's_ eyes are darting around, assessing Arthur, peering into the shadows behind him, twisting its neck around (despite the proximity of Arthur's claws) to stare into the green depths of the forest.

\--You're lonely. You've lost your mates.

\--What?

\--You're a velociraptor, aren't you? One of the last of your kind. Maybe _the_ last: I haven't seen any of your kind around for a while. And you always hunt in threes, but you're all alone.

The little furry morsel is _pitying_ him. Arthur opens his mouth to dispose of the impertinent thing, but ... but it's actually good to communicate.

\--They went to sleep. Dom and Mal. They went to sleep and I couldn't wake them.

\--I'm sorry. It's hard to be alone. Wouldn't you rather have company than comestibles?

\--Everybody eats.

\--There's lots of _other_ things you could eat. Tastier things. More nutritious things. How about that nice baby sauropod bumbling around in the brambles over there?

Arthur has not even noticed the little sauropod. He should be ashamed of himself. Shame, however, hasn't evolved yet, and after swiftly considering and discarding the possibility of this being a ruse, Arthur releases the quivering Eames-creature and heads for the sauropod. It's tangled in vines, but it's too stupid to call for its parents. Just in case, though, Arthur quickly ensures that it won't be making any noise in the future. He settles down for a leisurely meal.

\--Aren't you going to thank me?

It's the Eames again, perched on a rock and eyeing him smugly.

\--Help yourself.

Arthur makes a show of chewing, open-mouthed, on a mouthful of tender young sauropod-liver. The Eames recoils.

\--I prefer nuts and berries.

\--Run along and forage for some, then.

Arthur, ripping a succulent kidney from his prey's abdomen, is feeling remarkably magnanimous. He'll give the Eames a head-start: there's not much meat on it anyway. But when he looks up, the creature hasn't moved.

\--We make a good team. I spotted your dinner before you did. And you're going to need someone to watch your back.

Arthur spits out a bone.

\--What's in it for you?

\--You watch my back, I'll watch yours.

Arthur's spine twitches.

\--Deal, he says.

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> \- [illustration of this version of Eames -- _Kamptobaatar_](http://rsnature.deviantart.com/art/Kamptobaatar-kuczynskii-37942936)  
>  \- [_Kamptobaatar_ on Wikipedia (the name means 'bent hero', _how could I resist_ )](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kamptobaatar)  
> \- [Arthur has feathers. Shhhhh!](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Velociraptor)  
> \- set in handwavy Past around the [Campanian](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Campanian) or [Maastrichtian](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maastrichtian) (both Late Cretaceous). Any moment now an asteroid might fall on them. Or on me for writing this.


End file.
